Bubbles
by sincerelymendacious
Summary: Quentin decides to take his levitation to the next level.
1. Chapter 1

Quentin exhaled slowly, clearing his mind of all thought as best he could. It was easy to do out here on the docks- the weather was nice and mild, the sky cloudless and blue overhead, and the water below was calm and still. He was sitting in the middle of the platform, 'criss-cross-apple-sauce', as his kindergarten teacher would have said. Around him, his fellow campers balanced themselves on brightly-colored levitation balls. Some were better at it than others. Phoebe, Clem, and Crystal were able to keep themselves upright with little difficulty, but poor Elton looked like he could topple over into the lake at any minute.

The only one not on a ball was himself. Not that he couldn't call one, of course. Rolling and floating on a ball came as naturally to him as scratching and beat-boxing. He'd actually been thinking that it was getting too easy, and that it was about time for him to take off the training wheels and try to levitate without one. Like Agent Vodello, floating at the end of the dock and looking as comfortable in the air as she would have been in a big, comfy chair. She hadn't said anything about his grounded state, but he liked to think that she knew what he was up to and was sending him good vibes.

He exhaled and focused on his good mood, on those nice, chill feelings that allowed him to call his levitation ball. He closed his eyes and took another breath. The image of bubbles came to his mind unbidden, as though etched onto the back of his eyelid. Was it because he was surrounded by all these rad people bouncing on their own bubble-like levitation balls? Maybe.

The bubbles reminded him of when his Grandma had taken him out to dinner at a fancy French restaurant, shortly before he had left for camp. Grandma had sweet-talked the waiter into pouring him a glass of Champagne, his first taste of alcohol. The bubbles, tiny and pale, had risen up from the bottom of the glass, gathering at the top before fizzing out.

He focused all of his mental energy on picturing those bubbles flowing upwards gracefully, a constant stream of them going higher and higher. He felt a mellow, pleasant sensation spreading throughout his brain, and then his body rose, slowly but steadily, off of the slightly damp dock. He kept his eyes shut and pretended that he was one of those bubbles as he levitated, only opening them when his mind could raise his body no further.

He was up about three feet above the dock, still in that cross-legged position. It was weird, sitting in the air like this- it felt like there was something under him, holding him up, but there wasn't, was there? Better not to think about the exact mechanics of his powers, he'd probably fall if he thought too hard about anything right now.

Next to him, Phoebe grinned as she balanced herself on one foot. "You did it, Quentin!"

 _You're doing real good, darling._ Agent Vodello's kind, soft voice flowed into his head gently. She wasn't looking at him; her attention was on Elton, still struggling to keep himself on his ball. But she turned her head towards him for a second, giving him a quick smile. _Keep it up and the only limit will be the sky._

Quentin blushed at the praise, feeling himself rise a little higher.


	2. Chapter 2

"Levitation's not really about skill, man," Quentin said as he dipped his wand into the soapy bubble solution that Chef Cruller had foisted upon everybody at lunch. "It's all about your thoughts and feelings."

Clem nodded, giving an interested 'hmm' that sounded too forced to be genuine. They were on the porch of the Main lodge with a few other campers, shiny bubbles of varying sizes hovering about. He'd been alone up until Quentin had approached him- Phoebe had snatched Crystal away from him, and the two were now giggling and having fun with their probably expired bubble-solutions a few feet down from where he stood. He was in no mood to listen to whatever inane thing Quentin had to say, and he hoped that the other boy would give up on making conversation with him soon and just leave him be.

Unfortunately, Quentin didn't seem to pick up on his disinterest, or notice how strained his smile had become, because he kept right on talking. "It helps to visualize." He put the wand in front of his mouth and blew, a stream of perfectly-round bubbles flowing outward. When Clem had tried to do the same thing minutes before all he had gotten was one big misshapen bubble that had burst a second after its formation.

"When I levitate," Quentin continued, watching as his bubbles caught on a gentle breeze, "I pretend I'm like these bubbles." His eyes followed the bubbles as they floated past, heading towards the cabins. "Just moving on up, letting the wind take me wherever." He dunked the wand back into the soap and blew out some more.

Did Quentin have any idea how stupid he sounded right now? 'Pretend to be a bubble'- how asinine. He let his fake smile drop, unable to maintain it in the face of such idiotic rambling.

Quentin didn't notice the change in Clem's expression, too focused on his bubbles. The original batch was now beginning to pop. "I wonder what it's like, being a bubble," he said, idly stirring his wand into the solution. "I bet its real chill."

"They get spat out, they do nothing for a few seconds, and then they pop." Clem replied flatly. There, those words should have been enough for Quentin to finally get that Clem didn't want to talk to him, didn't want to hear about how easy it was for him to have 'chill thoughts and good feelings'.

To his surprise, Quentin laughed, unfazed by Clem's less than friendly tone. "True," he admitted, "but at least they get a nice view before they go out."

Clem shrugged, not having the energy to say anything further. A silence fell between them as they watched the last of the bubbles pop.


End file.
